


Hold On To Your Belief

by jaxonkreide, NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arc Reactor Failure, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Falling In Love, Feels, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt Tony Stark, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Ouch, Pining, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Smut, Soulmates, Talking, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Understanding, Worried Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21806536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxonkreide/pseuds/jaxonkreide, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Anthony was Loki’s soulmate– Loki knew it without a single doubt left in his heart. But through a cruel twist of fate that was as cold as the harshest bite of winter… Loki could never be Anthony’s.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 45
Kudos: 535





	Hold On To Your Belief

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first fic we started working on together, it just got a little bit bigger than either of us expected and took longer than we thought xD  
>   
> Art by **jaxonkreide** , fic by **NamelesslyNightlock**.

Loki always knew that he had a soulmate. He knew it deep in his bones, the same way that he knew how to wield his seiðr, the same way he knew who he was.

He never admitted it, of course, mostly because he knew the way he would be treated if he did. You see, the only people who have soulmates are those who _believe_ that they do. Frigga had always told him that, when he was younger, and no matter what Thor said about it being stupid romantic drivel, Loki always _believed_ it to be true.

Of course, it’s not just clear cut. Some people only believe when they see it happen to others, and gain that phantom pull in their hearts after seeing the love between close friends or family members. Some remain cynical, and never believe– and they might find their own kind of perfect happiness, but… that never would have been enough for Loki.

He _knew_ that he had a soulmate. And no matter how many years passed, he didn’t let the time worry him, or start to breed doubt– because he was sure that he and his soulmate would come together at the right time. That, after all, was how these things worked– his mother had told him so, and he _believed_ her.

But… Frigga had never told him what to do when his soulmate didn’t believe in _him_.

It was a special kind of torture, loving someone who did not love you back, and knowing that they would never see the world the same way that you did.

Things didn’t start out so terrible– things rarely do. It’s only ever when the caring has already started that the hurt sets in.

When Loki began to live with the Avengers on Midgard as part of his penance, he hadn’t truly realised any difference in the way he felt. His belief still sat in his chest as a gentle tug, not much more than the same as what he had been feeling his whole life. To be honest, he hardly thought of it at all– it had, after all, been over a thousand years since he had started to hope, but he was still just as patient as ever.

And besides, for the first time in far too long, Loki was just living his life. Being on Midgard might have been meant as a punishment, but it didn’t take long for Loki to come to see it as a blessing. For the first time, he was living without the scrutiny of his father, without needing to live up to being a prince. The people of Midgard already hated him, and that meant that there were no expectations to meet or reputations to uphold– which meant that he could just be _himself._ And yet the Avengers themselves accepted him into their fold, and _that_ meant he still had support and _friends_ , so that the negative remarks from the rest of the world – from those that didn’t matter – hardly touched him at all.

There was one person in particular that made him feel like he had found where he belonged– and that person, of course, was Tony Stark.

Stark – or Anthony, as he quickly became – made a joke about whether Loki would _finally_ accept that drink he had been offered in the very moment that Loki had stepped away from the Bifröst, and Loki’s answering quip had seemed to solidify their friendship on the spot. Sometimes, it had felt like Loki hadn’t stopped smiling ever since– because Anthony’s presence always made him feel warm and accepted in a way that nothing else ever had. Oh, they argued and they bickered and if they had ever agreed on a single thing, it was merely that they _liked_ to disagree with each other. But it kept them on their toes, and Loki actually enjoyed having someone who was not only unafraid to tell him when he was wrong, but would also (occasionally) be correct in doing so.

Loki spent more time with Anthony than he did anyone else, as if he were drawn to him through just the kind of simple happiness that wanted to be felt.

And the closer they got, the more Loki began to consider Anthony as perhaps more than merely his friend. The more he began to wonder what it might be like to hold Anthony in his arms, to draw him close or maybe – just maybe – press his lips to the soft strands of Anthony’s hair.

Those thoughts were not entirely helped by the way that Anthony liked to _touch_ , taking Loki’s hand at any opportunity, or throwing his arms around Loki’s shoulders, or leaning against him for no apparent reason at all. Loki loved every single moment of it and he began to yearn for more, to the point where he even began to instigate such moments of intimacy himself.

And it was a perfectly normal… morning – only so in that the hands of the clock had moved well past midnight – while he and Anthony were together in the workshop, standing side by side and so close that their arms brushed with each movement that something finally shifted. They had been working on a way to thread Loki’s seiðr through the power of the arc reactor, so that Anthony and Loki would be able to fight together even more seamlessly than they had before. They’d been working on it for hours – both unable to sleep due to nightmares, and both finding comfort in each other’s presence – when the arc reactor began to glow with tendrils of green.

And then Anthony looked up and met Loki’s gaze with a triumphant smile that was gleaming with delight, and Loki just… realised.

_Oh._

It wasn’t at all like he had expected. He thought that when he met his soulmate, he would know right away– that it would be a sudden rush of colour and emotion and _life,_ that he would know all the way down deep in his bones that _this_ was the person he was meant to be with.

But it hadn’t been anything like that at all, because… Loki had hardly even noticed falling in love. It had just _happened_ , and so slowly like falling through treacle and yet quickly all in the same moment. Looking back, Loki couldn’t remember _not_ feeling this way, though he was sure there must have been a time when that was true. But one thing was clear. That tug around his heart had been leading him toward Anthony the whole time. While Loki had been waiting for fate to take its course, it had curved all around him and simply waited for _him_ to fall in love with Anthony on his own.

And for a moment, Loki felt the greatest happiness he had ever known. He smiled right back, his lips curving upward and his eyes gleaming, his heart almost aching with how quickly it beat. Loki leaned forward slightly, with no plan in mind other than the age-old yearning to kiss the one that he loved, pausing half way only to check that Anthony wanted it as well, waiting for Anthony to meet him in the middle.

And then Anthony… pulled him into a hug. 

It should have brought comfort– Anthony’s hugs always did. But while Anthony was thrumming with the joy of a solved problem Loki’s heart was starting to crack, and he pressed his face into the curve of Anthony’s shoulder to try and hide the way he was fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Because Anthony was a man of logic, a realist in every sense of the word. He didn’t believe in things unless he _knew_ they were true– he hadn’t even been able to accept the inherent natural _power_ of Loki’s seiðr until he’d been able to see it with his own two eyes. There was no way that Anthony believed in soulmates, which meant… that he didn’t have one.

There was a moment where Loki wondered if maybe he had been mistaken, if maybe he was just caught up in a centuries’ old hope. That perhaps this was just a simple love, that Anthony wasn’t his soulmate at all. And maybe… that would be better. Maybe that wouldn’t hurt so much.

But it only lasted a moment, because it didn’t take Loki long to recognise that he didn’t _want_ his soulmate to be anyone other than Anthony, because he was sure that Anthony was his perfect match– and that if Anthony wasn’t, well, then. Perhaps it would be better not to believe in soulmates at all.

No.

_No._

Loki ached, he _burned,_ but he knew that Anthony was the one he was fated to be with. He’d fallen in love not knowing, he’d managed that all on his own– and surely that only meant that it was all the more precious? That Anthony really, truly was his match?

And yes, it hurt, but… Loki believed it was the _truth_.

Anthony was Loki’s soulmate– Loki knew it without a single doubt left in his heart. But through a cruel twist of fate that was as cold as the harshest bite of winter… Loki could never be Anthony’s.

—-—

For the first time in long time, Loki was doing _fine._

In fact, to anyone who didn’t know Loki well, it might seem that he was happier than he had ever been. And really, in a way, he supposed that he was. He fit in Avengers Tower far better than he ever had on Asgard. Plus, everything was far brighter than it had been since before Thor’s aborted coronation, before he’d learned that he was a Jötunn, before the only thing of himself that he’d been able to hold on to was that knowledge that one day, he’d find his soulmate. And now, of course, he _had_ , and he got to spend almost every day with him.

Loki knew that he would never tire of the way that Anthony’s expression lit into a smile whenever Loki walked into the room, or how Anthony would seek Loki out to share a new idea or simply just to ‘hang out’. He would never tire of Anthony’s quick wit, of his sharp tongue and clever mind that never seemed to rest. Loki could spend a century listening to Anthony’s excited tone as he explained a concept or idea that Loki never would have thought to try and learn– for even words on topics he would have found otherwise boring or nonsensical were music when they fell from Anthony’s lips.

But whenever he caught himself staring, or smiling fondly, or watching with an adoration that crept in even when he tried to curb it– he had to make himself pull back away.

If Anthony noticed when Loki did so, he never gave any indication. As Loki shifted so their arms were no longer touching or so that Anthony’s hand fell away from where it had come to rest on the small of Loki’s back, Loki never noticed Anthony even reacting. He would merely continue on with his chatter at exactly the same rate, or he would keep working without a single falter.

No matter how relieved Loki was that Anthony wasn’t pulling away, the non-reaction only made the cracks in Loki’s heart widen a little further– and Anthony didn’t even _notice_.

Still, Loki tried to hold on to the good things. He reminded himself that in Anthony, he had the best friend anyone could ever hope to have, that he was blessed to even be able to spend time with him. But regardless of how much Loki tried to tell himself that he was lucky and _grateful_ … Loki would still wish for a little more. He knew his warm smiles must become wistful the moment that Anthony turned away– he knew it, because he _felt_ it. And sometimes, the wishing made him feel guilty, as if even just by wanting more than Anthony was willing to give, he was betraying his friendship.

The guilt and the happiness and the yearning became all twisted up inside him, knotting up his insides until there were so many moments where he felt like he was on the brink of falling apart.

There wasn’t any hiding from it either, because he spent almost every waking moment with Anthony, and if he tried to stay away then that tug in his heart and the longing in his chest would just pull him right back. And even in sleep he couldn’t find respite, because his mind would never let him rest.

To be honest, Loki wasn’t sure which was worse– the nightmares of how he would never be able to find happiness, or the dreams that made him think that he _had_. Because at least when he woke from the nightmare, he could find Anthony and let a warm smile and a distracting conversation chase the shadows away… but when he woke from a fantasy, he could only face the harsh reality of being alone.

So, yeah.

You know.

Loki was _fine_ , he was coping, and to everyone who’d only known him since he’d arrived, he even looked like he was _happy_ – because in a way, he _was_.

But, unfortunately, there _was_ someone present in the tower who had known Loki his whole life– and while Thor used to be rather blind to things that were happening around him, he had grown unfortunately observant of late.

Because of _course_ Thor would only begin to take note of Loki’s feelings when Loki was trying to _hide_ them.

Loki had been in the kitchen fetching snacks for himself and Anthony, and was just poking at the stubborn coffee machine when he felt movement to his right. It wasn’t the kind of determined movement one might expect from someone who had come to get food, and nor was it the absent ‘I’ll just have a look in the fridge’ kind of nonchalance either. Loki could tell from the sound of his steps that it was Thor, and the way that Thor paused and shifted on his feet meant only the one thing.

Thor wanted to _talk_ about something, and it was a serious enough matter that Thor was actually thinking about what he wanted to say rather than just jumping in immediately.

Loki had hoped that he would simply be able to ignore him, do what he had come to do and then go on his way, but unfortunately Thor had positioned himself right in front of one of the cupboards Loki rather needed to get into– and so he turned to Thor with a sigh.

And, predictably, the moment that Loki turned, Thor began to speak. “Brother,” he started, sounding a little hesitant in a way that put Loki on edge immediately.

“Thor,” Loki said, his tone carefully bright and untroubled. “Do you mind? I need to get another mug.”

“For Tony?” Thor asked.

The question was a simple one, and the answer should have been simpler still– but there was something in Thor’s voice that gave Loki pause, and his eyes flashed to meet Thor’s with an involuntary scowl.

It seemed to be all the confirmation Thor needed, for his brow creased with a frown.

“Loki,” Thor said, the concern – for it _was_ concern – far clearer now. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Loki replied, pushing past him to reach into the cupboard for the coffee– which is what he should have done in the first place, for his briskness came a little too late.

Thor let out a heavy sigh, and he stopped Loki from moving away with a light hand on his shoulder.

“I see the way you look at him,” Thor said gently. “You don’t… still believe in soulmates, do you?”

Loki jerked away as if he had been burned. It was the same kind of thing that he had been forced to endure his whole life– because Thor had always tossed aside the notion of soulmates with the same kind of disinterest that he’d had for seiðr. Even less, perhaps– because at least Loki’s seiðr was _entertaining_ when Thor wanted to play a prank on one of his friends. But soulmates? No, in Thor’s books, they were mere fairy tales for children.

As they grew older, Thor didn’t tease Loki for it as much as he had when they were young, but he’d never been able to understand. He merely… supported Loki where he could, and always smiled and wished him luck on the odd occasion Loki would risk speaking about wanting to meet his match.

But of course, Loki knew that he was never being truthful. For if Thor were capable of actually _believing_ that Loki had a soulmate, then he would also have one himself– and the fact that Thor was able to just throw such a thing away had always hurt. And it certainly wasn’t the kind of conversation that Loki wished to be having when he felt so twisted up.

So, he took the mug that he wanted – a ridiculous red thing with Iron Man’s faceplate plastered on it in gold – shoved it into place under the coffee machine, and then moved to begin collecting some food from the fridge while it filled.

“Loki, wait,” Thor said, clearly realising that Loki’s intentions were to leave as soon as he could. “I am not trying to criticise you, and I will not tell you that you’re wrong. I am merely concerned.”

“There’s no need to be,” Loki said firmly. There was some left-over pizza sitting on a plate, which Loki didn’t particularly fancy but, it won out over any other options on the basis of ease. He placed the plate on a tray, along with the mug of tea that had been steeping, and then he fetched Anthony’s now full Iron Man mug from the coffee machine. But before he could pick the whole tray up—

“Loki, you’re hurting,” Thor said, placing one hand back on Loki’s shoulder– not enough to restrain, but making it clear that he wanted Loki to stop.

“I’m _fine,”_ Loki hissed.

“You are not,” Thor said. “I know you, and I see the way that you look at him. You’ve never looked at anyone else that way before, and yet… you have done nothing.”

Loki glanced away, but he didn’t pull from Thor’s grasp– and when Thor next spoke, it was in a tender tone that cut deep.

“You do think that he is your soulmate, don’t you?”

Loki’s breath left him in a heavy sigh, and all of the fight in him melted away with it. Perhaps he really was being obvious about it. Or perhaps Thor really did just know him that well.

The thought was a little harrowing either way, and Loki chose to answer in another vein.

“I don’t just _think,”_ he said. “I know he is.”

Thor’s expression softened at that, clearly understanding how important that was to Loki, even if he didn’t understand the sentiment itself.

“Then why don’t you tell him?” Thor asked. “Tell him how you feel? If you believe he is your soulmate, then surely it will end happily?”

“You know Anthony,” Loki sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You know the way he is. And you know that he doesn’t believe in soulmates.”

Thor’s expression fell, his eyes pained. “Loki…” It was clear that Thor was thinking this through, that he was worried about hurting Loki with his words but that he believed not speaking would be even worse. “Perhaps… it would not hurt to tell him regardless? Even if he does not believe as you do, he may still _feel_ the same way. You know that I loved Jane—”

That was _more_ than Loki needed to hear. He jerked away from Thor and grabbed the tray from the counter, and then turned and left as quickly as he could without spilling either of the drinks.

Thor called after him, voice laced with concern. “Brother, please, I only want what is best for you!”

“I know,” Loki replied, pausing for a moment in the door. “But… please. Stop trying to help, it’s only making me feel worse.”

Then he moved toward the elevator, and he was only able to relax when the doors slid closed and cut him off from the rest of the world.

Or, well… as close as he could get inside Avengers Tower, at any rate.

“JARVIS,” Loki said tiredly. “Please, do not tell Anthony anything about this.”

“I do not think that keeping it from him is wise,” JARVIS said. “You are both—”

“I will not have Anthony thinking that I will do something to make him uncomfortable, or that I’ve been hiding something,” Loki insisted. “ _Please_.”

JARVIS was silent for a long moment.

“I will not tell him,” he said, “If you speak to him yourself.”

Loki closed his eyes at that. JARVIS truly was a wonder, and Loki honestly loved him but… no one could properly claim JARVIS to be benevolent or kind. Oh, he was certainly caring and generous to those that he liked, but when it came to protecting his own? JARVIS was ruthless, and Loki knew that there would be no way to get out of his ultimatum. Either Loki told Anthony how he felt, or JARVIS would do it for him.

When the elevator doors opened again, Loki felt a little like he was about to be led to the executioner’s block– but he drew in a deep breath, and carried the tray with the mugs and the food down to the workshop.

Anthony was already washing his hands when Loki arrived– JARVIS must have let him know that food was on its way. He smiled when he saw Loki enter, the kind of bright smile that made Loki feel a little weak-kneed, even now when he was facing an all too high likelihood of never seeing such a smile again.

Once Anthony was finished, they sat together on the couch, and Loki placed the tray on the coffee table in front of them and handed Anthony his mug– but before taking a drink himself, Loki turned to face Anthony determinately and steeled himself for the worst.

Loki wished that he could put it off, but he could _feel_ JARVIS’ eyes on him, and he knew that it needed to be done. Yet he still found himself hesitating, struggling to find the right words, tongue tied in a way that he didn’t usually experience.

“Are you okay?” Anthony asked, putting his still mostly full mug aside and reaching out to take Loki’s hands in his own. And it was the contact that pushed Loki forward, because– maybe it would ruin everything, maybe it wouldn’t, but either way the longer Loki held out, the longer he was living in a lie.

“Yes,” Loki replied. “I am perfectly fine. I merely… wish to speak to you about something.”

Anthony frowned in concern. “About what?”

“About this, I suppose,” Loki replied, lifting up their hands slightly and running his fingers over Anthony’s skin.

“I’m not following,” Anthony admitted. And really, this was not going the way that Loki wanted it to at all– but he kept pressing forward.

“I don’t mean to overstep my bounds,” he said. “But when you touch me like this… I feel like…”

“Oh,” Anthony whispered, tilting his head. “Oh, I get it.”

Loki’s eyes widened, and there was a single, blissful moment when he wondered whether Thor had actually been right, and that Anthony _did_ feel the same way—

But then Anthony’s lips pressed against his own in a searing, _passionate_ kiss that didn’t in any way match the soft emotion that Loki was feeling, and he realised… that Anthony _didn’t_ ‘get it’ in the slightest. He didn’t think Loki was admitting to romantic affection– he thought Loki was alluding to sexual _attraction_ , and he was acting accordingly.

And Loki… well.

He didn’t hesitate.

Loki fell into the kiss with a low groan, his hands burying harshly into Anthony’s hair as he pressed closer, pushing Anthony back against the couch as he all but slid into his lap. Anthony’s lips tasted of coffee and the salt of hard work, and Loki couldn’t get enough. Their hips rocked together and their moans entangled in a symphony of desire as they both lost themselves to the pleasure.

But even as Loki held Anthony close, even as clothes fell to the floor and hands raked over bare skin gleaming with sweat, even as Loki got just what he had dreamed of– there was a slight tinge of wrongness to it all that settled down in a pit of dread.

—-—

Being with Anthony was the most thrilling experience of Loki’s long life. Anthony never stayed still– he was always moving, always _running_ through life with the kind of enthusiasm that made Loki feel giddy. He never knew what Anthony would do next– it was the kind of chaos that he would _always_ relish, and whether they were working side by side in Anthony’s workshop or fucking in Loki’s bed, being with Anthony made him feel more alive than he ever had before.

And… being with Anthony was also the hardest, most painful thing that Loki had ever experienced.

Every time they lay together, Loki would hit a high that he hadn’t thought possible. The feel of Anthony’s skin against his own was an ecstasy he couldn’t describe– it felt like everything that he could ever want, and yet it was never enough. Loki knew he would never be able to get enough of Anthony because Anthony was his every ache and need, and whenever Anthony moaned Loki’s name, whenever he was sweating and writhing under Loki’s body, crying out at Loki’s every touch– Loki didn’t think he could picture a moment more perfect.

But then… when they were both sated, Anthony would smile, he would get up, and he would _leave—_

And then the illusion would shatter, and Loki would be left lying in a bed that was too big, among sheets that cooled too quickly, and with a heart that was well on its way to falling apart.

Loki knew that he should stop, that every poisoned moment was sucking the life from him more effectively than anything else that he’d suffered through ever had. But he couldn’t let go of the little he’d been able to gain, because every moment with Anthony, every kiss, every touch, every _word_ was a blessing that he craved more of with every passing day.

Anthony was his addiction– he couldn’t get enough, no matter how much it felt like it would be his end.

So every time that Anthony knocked on Loki’s bedroom door, every time he slipped between Loki’s sheets– Loki would welcome him with a smile and a heated kiss that would have both of them moaning in moments. Loki would roll over and press Anthony hard into the mattress, trying not to show how much he wanted to melt into his touch, to curl into his side, to go slowly and sweetly and _lovingly_ —

But he couldn’t. Because if he did, if Anthony _realised_ how Loki felt, then Anthony would stop and Loki would have nothing at all.

And Loki knew that would be more than he could bear– that without even this, he would shatter. He _needed_ his time with Anthony like he needed to breathe, and even just the very thought of not being able to touch him this way again made Loki’s chest feel like it was being split open with a rusty axe. 

So he didn’t go slow. They didn’t make love. He fucked Anthony with all the passion he could muster and none of the tenderness he felt in his heart, listening to Anthony’s pleading cries and answering every request with obedience, not wanting to risk doing _anything_ that would make Anthony want to stop.

 _Harder. Faster_.

It wasn’t necessarily that he minded, he just—

Sometimes, he wished there was something a little _more_ than this—

And then he would feel selfish, greedy, _broken_ , because how could there be anything better than _this?_

But then—

_“Loki.”_

Hearing Anthony moan his name was the sweetest of sounds, and sometimes, if Loki closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that what they were doing was real.

Loki muffled his own moan into the curve of Anthony’s shoulder, the heady sensation of pushing into Anthony always enough to cause him to see stars for a few seconds. Anthony was already shifting his hips, pressing up for more, trying to pull Loki _deeper_ inside him and _oh_ but if the thought of that, of Anthony being so needy for _him_ wasn’t enough to tear Loki’s breath from his chest—

But he let the emotion wash over him and melt into something else, and he rocked back before thrusting into Anthony again, the salty taste of Anthony’s sweat on his tongue and the warmth of his body so overwhelming that it almost made Loki feel drunk. And he just lost himself to it, let his every thought roll into pleasure and endorphins and _Anthony_ as he rocked them together with a rhythm that was enough to have even his breath coming in rough pants.

“Loki,” Anthony groaned, “Oh, _fuck—_ ”

Loki grunted as he moved faster, harder, just like he knew Anthony always wanted it. He tried to keep his own voice locked away, biting down on words and only letting out incomprehensible sounds that _might_ have only been from the pleasure of their bodies, and not the emotions that always rolled through him so fiercely it was almost enough to make him pass out. Because Loki always knew that if he said Anthony’s name in these moments, the sound would be so reverent that there would be no way to keep his own desires to himself.

This was enough. This _had_ to be enough—

Anthony moaned again as Loki shifted his weight to one hand and curled his other around Anthony’s cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts and leaving Anthony cursing beneath him, his words entirely incoherent but the tone a universal language. He was trembling as his eyes rolled, and Loki knew that Anthony was trying to hold himself back, that it would take just a little more to push him over the edge. Loki was close as well, but he always made himself wait, no matter how impossible it seemed– because Anthony’s pleasure was more important than his own.

Loki could hear a familiar voice that didn’t matter because it was neither of theirs, and he took no notice of it as he continued to focus on Anthony, and on his own battle not to let go before Anthony found his release.

Loki shifted as he gripped Anthony’s thighs, pushing them wider so he could get just a little bit _deeper_ , hitting that spot he knew from experience would cause Anthony to fall. Then Loki felt Anthony tense as he slammed inside him at just the _right_ angle, and Anthony came with a shuddering cry. He clung to Loki as he rode his high, his legs slipping along the curve of Loki’s ass and his hands gripping Loki’s shoulders so tightly that had Loki been human, his nails would have torn at Loki’s skin. The sight and sound of his orgasm was more than enough to make Loki lose control, and he managed only one more thrust before he came as well, feeling the pleasure explosively though his whole body with enough force that by the time he opened his eyes again, he was slumped over Anthony’s sticky chest with Anthony’s hand stroking absently though his hair.

Loki blinked. This kind of… _affection_ wasn’t entirely normal—

“ _Sir.”_

“JARVIS, for fuck’s sake,” Anthony groaned– and Loki got the impression that it wasn’t the first time JARVIS had tried to get Anthony’s attention.

“I am sorry, Sir,” JARVIS said again, and he actually almost sounded like he _meant_ it. “But the threat is serious, and if the Avengers are to win then they will need you _both_ on their side.”

Anthony was cursing up a storm, though his hand in Loki’s hair was still strangely gentle– and there was a second where Loki wished he could just pretend he was still lost in a haze of pleasure so that he didn’t have to move, so that he could linger in the fantasy of Anthony showing such affection for just a _little_ longer. But, there was little point in delaying the inevitable. Even if JARVIS had not sought their attention, Anthony still would have left. Just as he always did.

There wasn’t any reason for him to want to stay.

So, rather than pathetically waiting for Anthony to push him away, Loki climbed off his lover – his friend, his _soulmate_ – himself. Loki didn’t look at Anthony’s expression, he didn’t want to know what might be there– he’d seen the look of guilt that was only a painful hairsbreadth from _regret_ far too many times to want to see it again. Especially not if he was about to head into a fight.

So he pulled himself from the bed and turned away without a glance, somehow feeling far more naked than he had when they had been fucking– and then he went to make his way toward the bathroom so that Anthony would be able to leave without Loki’s eyes on his back.

“Wait!” Anthony exclaimed—

And Loki only just felt a hand on his arm before Anthony was pulling him back around and crashing their lips together in the kind of kiss that had Loki feeling like he was starving. The kiss was heated and passionate and aching with everything _good_ , and Loki groaned into it as he pulled Anthony closer, because even knowing that it would only leave him hurt in the long run wasn’t enough to stop him from taking whatever scraps Anthony was willing to offer.

It was in the moments like those that Loki realised how broken he truly was– that he realised Thor might have been right. He was tearing himself apart, ripping and _shattering_ too fast to be able to hold himself together—

But he was in far too deep to stop.

The kiss was long, longer than normal– and when they broke apart to breathe, Anthony only leaned in a second later to steal another in a gesture that was _dangerous_ , because it was the kind of thing that led again to the illusion that _maybe_ this could be something more.

That way lay only anguish– and yet, it was _still_ a torment that Loki would willingly endure.

 _Scraps_. He was like a starving animal, snatching at anything– even if it might be laced with poison. He was desperate enough for Anthony that he would seek his own destruction in exchange for a single kiss—

Yet no sooner had that thought entered his mind did the kiss come to a proper end.

“Sorry,” Anthony said, already turning away. “I just… couldn’t help it.”

Loki’s lips were tingling, and he had to push back at the desire to raise his hand up so he could press his fingers against them. It was the longest kiss they had ever shared that wasn’t in the middle of or in the lead up to sex, and Loki wanted with all his heart to tell Anthony that there was no need to apologise– that if he wanted, he could kiss Loki whenever he liked.

Surely that would be okay to say? Anthony had admitted to enjoying it, after all– it didn’t have to _mean_ anything.

Even if to Loki, it would mean the world.

But by the time Loki found his voice to utter even the start of his offer, Anthony was already gone.

—-—

As it turned out, JARVIS was right. The Avengers truly did need all the help they could get. As JARVIS had informed Loki as he had cleaned himself up and donned his armour, the person they were fighting was hardly a person at all– at least, not anymore. He was a bolt of living electricity, holding power inside his body with such instability that it would often explode out of him and cause him to surge into an electric blast as powerful as any lightning strike.

It meant that Thor’s lightning was useless, as was the Captain’s shield– for if any of the electric bolts struck the shield, then Rogers would be electrocuted. He could still throw it as a weapon of course, but it was hardly any use against living energy– and none of the others were capable of moving fast enough to strike before Electro changed from flesh to current. Barton’s explosive arrows did nothing, Hulk’s fists went straight through the man and left Hulk with hair that stood on end, and Romanoff’s Widow’s Bites were just as effective as Mjölnir. Thor was the only one who could get anywhere close, but then he had no way to stop him– because you can’t _punch_ electricity, and you can’t hit it with a hammer. Electro couldn’t hurt Thor, but Thor couldn’t really hurt him, either.

They were at a kind of stalemate, save for the fact that with every passing moment Electro was destroying more of the city and putting more people in danger– which, of course, were a few things that the Avengers usually liked to try and avoid.

The moment the pair arrived, Rogers immediately began bombarding them with questions and orders and information, and Anthony had to ask him to quiet so that he could think.

“It’s electricity, right?” Anthony asked. “What kind?”

Rogers paused for a moment. “Uh—”

“He got his powers when he was hit by lightning,” Natasha interrupted.

“Okay, so we can assume it’s static. We just gotta work out a way to ionise this bastard, that’s all—”

“Tony,” Rogers complained. “English, please—”

But Anthony was already on the move, and Loki couldn’t help his own fond smile as he followed after him.

“Thor, buddy, you’re going to have to stop trying to hit him, it’s only making this worse,” Anthony continued. “And okay Lokes, come over here, I’m going to need your help.”

Loki stood over Anthony and made sure that he wasn’t harmed while he pieced together some kind of device from items taken from the window of an electronics shop and pieces of his own suit, using his seiðr to keep them hidden from sight and protected from the blasts of electricity that still showered down on them.

The Avengers had quickly organised to do their best to distract Electro while Anthony worked, but they didn’t need to buy much time, for it only took Anthony a few minutes before he was standing tall with his device in his hands.

“I’m going to need a power source,” Anthony muttered. “And I can’t use my reactor, not without KO’ing the suit. Thor’s lightning might have worked except for the fact that we can’t be sure it won’t make the electricity worse—”

“It’s all right, Anthony,” Loki said. “I know why you asked for my help.”

Anthony paused. “Loki,” he said slowly, his helmet folding away so that he could pin Loki with his concerned stare. “This is going to take a massive amount of power, because we’ve got to get this whole area or it’s not going to work. I don’t want you to—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Anthony,” Loki snapped, shoving away the warmth he felt at Anthony’s concern. He knew that Anthony cared about him. He knew that Anthony saw him as a close _friend_. But as much as Loki was grateful for that, after what they had just done less than a half hour before – after everything that Loki had _felt_ – he just didn’t want to have a thought like that floating around in his mind. “Tell me what it is that you want me to do.”

Anthony’s expression tightened a little, but Loki refused to allow himself to budge– and they both knew that they couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

So Anthony gave a quick explanation in a voice that sounded a little strained, and then Loki laid his hands on Anthony’s device.

“We’re ready, Cap,” Anthony said. “Prepare to take this guy down.”

It took Loki a little while to thread his seiðr through the pieces of metal and wiring, to coax the device to life. His seiðr was not the electricity that Midgardian devices were designed to be powered by, so it took a little more finesse than Thor would have had to use had he simply struck the thing with a lightning blast. But as his seiðr flowed easily though Anthony’s creation, learning the way that it worked, Loki knew that he would be able to do what Anthony had asked.

Then Loki felt a touch to his cheek, and he blinked his eyes open in surprise to see Anthony pulling his hand back with a smile.

“Are you ready?” Anthony asked.

Rather than give a response, Loki simply let his seiðr surge once again, pushing as much of it as he could into Anthony’s device. His eyes closed once more as he focused, pulling everything into place until the machine caved to his will. Loki thought he could _feel_ a change in the air, the hair on the back of his neck standing up—

“Tony!” Steve yelled, “Loki, incoming!”

Loki saw a flash and he could smell burning metal—

But he couldn’t afford to lose focus. He forced more power into the device, he _willed_ Anthony’s invention to work in the way that it had been designed to—

And then the lightning dissipated, the air no longer felt full of static and the only sound was Electro screaming in rage.

Loki smiled as he opened his eyes once again, and moved to turn and look for Anthony— but then he was suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness and swayed slightly on the spot. It would seem that Anthony had been right to say that it had required a _lot_ of energy, because Loki felt more spent than he had in a very long time. But that didn’t matter, because he had managed to do it– which meant that his and Anthony’s combined efforts had saved this day. The device had worked, the air was ionised. There _was_ no static electricity for Electro to use, and so long as the Avengers acted quickly – and Thor followed Anthony’s advice and did not call down any more lightning – then Electro would be powerless.

After taking a few breaths to steady himself, Loki once again began to glance around, looking for Anthony. For a moment, he wondered if Anthony might have gone to help the rest of the Avengers with Electro and had left Loki behind, but then– he saw the red and gold armour on the ground some feet away, the paint job scorched and damaged—

And Anthony was not moving.

Loki moved faster than he had in a _long_ time, throwing himself down on the ground and—

“Don’t touch him!”

Loki’s hands stopped instinctively as Romanoff and Thor came hurrying over, both looking incredibly concerned. It was Romanoff who had spoken, and she hurried to continue to explain.

“The suit might still hold a charge, if you touch him you might get shocked too.”

Not wasting another moment, Loki turned away from her and placed his hands either side of the arc reactor, knowing there was no danger because he trusted that Anthony’s device would have done its job, and would have removed any remaining charge.

Because it was rather clear what had happened– Electro must have seen what they were doing, and had attacked. And with Loki focused on the device, the shields he had formed out of his seiðr earlier in the fight were no longer in place—

And Anthony must have thrown himself in front of Loki to protect him, so that Loki could finish the job.

Loki’s hands were shaking, but the amour fell away under the command of his seiðr. What he saw underneath caused his breath to catch in his throat– because while Anthony’s skin seemed unmarred thanks to the brilliance of his armour, the arc reactor in his chest was dark.

There was no moment of hesitation, no pause to think. Loki lay a hand over the reactor and closed his eyes with far more focus than he’d even used to fight Electro. He already knew that his seiðr would work with Midgardian technology, he was _sure_ that he would be able to save Anthony—

He was sure, because he had to be. He wouldn’t accept any other outcome, he _couldn’t—_

Because if Anthony’s heart remained dormant, Loki couldn’t help but think there was a possibility that his own might go the same way.

Loki could hear others shouting around him, talking about trying to retrieve a spare reactor in the time they had, and Thor trying to convince them that he could restart the device with his lightning. But Loki squeezed his eyes tighter, and pushed more of his seiðr into Anthony’s chest—

And then Anthony sucked in a sudden breath of air, and his heart stuttered back into a steady rhythm.

Loki’s eyes flew open as Anthony gripped his wrists, and Loki twisted their hands to hold Anthony’s in both of his own. Tired, scared, and _aching_ with the sudden surge of relief, Loki leaned forward to press his forehead to their hands.

“Never do that to me again,” Loki begged, the exhaustion taking over his rational mind as his shoulders slumped. “Anthony… I can’t lose you.”

“Loki?” Anthony asked, his own voice a little cracked.

And Loki– well. He _froze._

There was no way that his actions could be misinterpreted now. A friend would be distraught, yes, but Loki was _holding_ Anthony’s hands– and he was all but _weeping_.

_I can’t lose you._

He might as well have advertised his feelings for the whole world to see.

Loki’s breathing was shallow, and his hands were already trembling in Anthony’s even before he tore himself away, scrambling back to his feet—

“Loki, wait.”

Loki’s body paused on instinct, but only for a second before he was moving again, bunching what seiðr he could around himself and preparing to _flee_. He had just ruined everything, he had just _lost_ all that he had—

Because now Anthony would know the truth, and he would never want anything to do with Loki ever again.

But—

Loki truly was exhausted, and he couldn’t muster the energy required to skywalk. But he still needed to leave, he needed to _go_ , and not even his own pride was going to keep him on that broken street, just _waiting_ for his heart to be torn from his chest while the whole team looked on.

“Thor,” Loki begged, turning to his brother. “Please, get me out of here.”

Anthony was still calling for Loki to wait, starting to cough with his insistence– and the sound of it tugged at Loki’s heartstrings. But he kept his tortured gaze on Thor, and only a fraction of a second passed before Thor gave a nod.

And yes, maybe it was only delaying the inevitable, but as Thor took Loki in his arms and flew them both back toward Avengers Tower and _away_ from Anthony– Loki couldn’t even bring himself to look back.

Because he knew that if he did, if he had even a glimpse of Anthony’s face– then he would have fallen to pieces entirely.

—-—

Loki hadn’t _meant_ to end up in Anthony’s penthouse. He hadn’t been thinking clearly, his thoughts a mess as his heart broke apart, and the moment Thor had let go of him in the Avengers’ living room Loki had simply stumbled into the elevator and slumped against the wall.

Perhaps he hadn’t even said where he’d wanted to go. Perhaps JARVIS had brought him to the penthouse on purpose. Loki wouldn’t have put it past him. All he knew was that when he made it to a couch, it wasn’t the one in his own quarters– but by the time he realised he was too drained to move.

He felt like he was floating, like his mind hadn’t yet quite caught up to all that had happened– and he was still lost in a kind of daze when the elevator opened again.

“Loki.”

Loki didn’t bother with looking up. He already knew what disappointment and regret looked like when it was painted across Anthony’s face.

“I apologise,” Loki said. “I know that I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave.”

“I asked JARVIS to let you up here.” Loki heard the sound of feet over the carpet, but he didn’t look up as Anthony approached– not even when he felt the couch shift as Anthony sat down. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Loki just barely refrained from flinching. “I suppose JARVIS has filled in the blanks for you,” he said.

“Actually, JARVIS hasn’t told me anything,” Anthony replied.

“I thought you swore that you’d tell him,” Loki whispered, almost surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded. Almost, but not quite. “I’m surprised that you didn’t tell him even before today.”

“I thought that it would be beneficial for you to hear it from each other,” JARVIS replied, his voice soft. “Rather than me.”

“And I agree,” said Anthony. Loki felt movement through the couch cushions, but he continued to stare at his hands in his lap. “Because, Loki… for the longest time, I… I thought that you didn’t feel anything for me. But then, today—”

“It was a mistake.”

Loki felt Anthony freeze even though there was several feet of space between them. He hadn’t meant to say the words– they were a defensive reflex, a reaction to his fear of losing Anthony all together. But now that he _had_ said them, he knew there were a few paths he could take. He could insist that _of course_ he could continue without Anthony, that he didn’t need a mortal to live happily. Or he could say that it had been a mistake to be with Anthony in the first place, that he had accepted Anthony’s advances in the heat of the moment and that he now no longer desired them.

But… every single one of those kinds of options would mean telling a lie.

And lying directly, lying about _this…_ was not something that Loki could stomach.

No matter how much it would hurt him otherwise, Loki knew there was no way he could _ever_ tell Anthony that he didn’t matter, that Loki didn’t care about him. He could keep his feelings a secret, but he wouldn’t ever be able to say anything to the contrary.

So, rather than taking any of those paths… Loki decided that perhaps it was time to tell the truth.

“It was a mistake not telling you the truth from the start,” Loki said, his whole body going slack as he rubbed his hands over his face. “I tried, but I should have tried harder. I should have let you know before the misunderstanding became worse.”

Anthony frowned. “Misunderstanding?”

“The first time you kissed me,” Loki said, letting his hands fall back into his lap as he finally looked up to meet Anthony’s gaze– and then he had to pause for a second before continuing when he saw the raw emotion etched across Anthony’s expression. “That first time,” Loki started again, “What were you thinking?”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Anthony whispered. “And I thought… that if it was all I could have, then I would gladly take whatever you were willing to give, because… any part of you was better than nothing.”

Loki felt like he’d suffered a kick to the chest, like all of the wind had been knocked out of him.

“You wanted more than that?” he asked hoarsely.

“I wanted to be with you, Loki,” Anthony replied, his eyes shining too bright, as if they were full of unshed tears he was fighting to keep at bay. “And I didn’t mind what I had to put myself through so I could be.”

“Oh.” Loki knew his own eyes were wide, and he realised that he had turned so much on the couch that one of his knees was on the cushion so that he could face Anthony properly. Anthony was mirroring him, both leaning in slightly. “Anthony, I thought… I thought you only wanted me in your bed.”

“I thought that was all _you_ wanted,” Anthony said. “But you’re saying that you actually—”

“And you _want_ me—”

“Loki, I always have—”

“For so very long.” Loki’s heart was beating so fast that he could hear it rushing in his ears, and he felt very, very warm. It was like there was a magnet pulling them together, both leaning forward with the agonised slowness of being unsure for far too long.

But just before their lips were due to touch, Loki paused– their mouths only a hairsbreadth apart, their breath mixing, and their heads tilted to stop their noses from pressing together.

“What’s wrong?” Anthony’s voice was so soft that even as close as they were, Loki could barely hear it.

“I promised you the truth,” Loki breathed in response, their lips so close to touching that Loki could feel the brush of Anthony’s over his own with every word.

And Anthony, of course, understood right away. “What else is there to tell me?”

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, and then he leaned back just an inch so that he could lay his heart bare. “Anthony…you are my soulmate. I have known it for months now, and while I understand that you do not believe… you deserve to know the true depth of how I feel, and that this isn’t something that will change for me. I love you, Anthony. And _that_ is the truth.”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting. Surprise, certainly, but beyond that… well, he knew what he _hoped_ for. But he hadn’t thought that Anthony would _actually_ smile, his eyes burning bright as he reached up to cup Loki’s cheek.

“Oh, Loki,” he whispered. “I thought that Asgardians didn’t believe in soulmates, because Thor has said several times that he doesn’t. I thought, that you… that you didn’t see things the same way as me.”

“What are you saying?” Loki asked, trying not to feel hope but– he just _couldn’t help it_. And… when Anthony next spoke, it seemed that Loki’s hope was not misplaced.

“You’re my soulmate, too,” Anthony said softly. “I’ve known for a while as well. I suppose we’re both idiots.”

Loki’s breath drew in sharply, and it stuck in his throat in a way that didn’t quite feel uncomfortable. Anthony had just admitted to the very thing that Loki had dreamed of, the thing he had _wanted_ more than anything for as long as he could remember.

Anthony was Loki’s soulmate, yes—

And Loki was _Anthony’s_ as well.

“I thought, that with all your talk about science and working things out, that you wouldn’t believe in something that you couldn’t see?” Loki asked, his words sounding a little weak– and not just from his tiredness, anymore. In fact, he felt more awake than he had in _years_.

“How could I not believe, when you were right in front of me?” Anthony’s smile was painfully tender. “Just because we can’t explain it doesn’t mean that it’s not real, right?”

The noise that pulled from Loki’s lips was rather close to a whimper, and Anthony stroked his thumb softly over Loki’s cheek.

“Loki, I love you,” Anthony said. “I have for a long time now. You’re my soulmate, and _I love you_ , and I don’t ever want to have to let go of you again.”

Loki didn’t think about it– he just leaned forward and pressed their lips together, kissing Anthony with all the feeling that was surging through him. And somehow, as Anthony pulled him closer and kissed him back, it felt like all those broken pieces, all the pain and hurt– all of it just fell back into place, piecing back together and smoothing away until all that was left was the _good_.

It didn’t _have_ to hurt anymore– Loki could have Anthony without all the pain.

It was a kiss like no other that they had shared. It was slow, it was gentle, it was _loving_ , and it didn’t feel like it was just a lead in to something more. It didn’t have to be, because this? This felt like everything that Loki could ever want– and it was perfect.

Loki sighed against Anthony’s mouth as he slid a little closer, pressing Anthony gently back into the couch. His hips rocked forward as he slid into Anthony’s lap, and when Anthony made that kind of appreciative noise that Loki knew so well, it was almost instinctive to slide a hand down Anthony’s chest.

“Loki,” Anthony said, placing his hand on Loki’s arm. “We don’t have to.”

“I know,” Loki whispered, his lips turning up into a smile even as he pressed them to Anthony’s once again. “But I _want_ to.”

Anthony’s answering smile was bright, and then they were kissing again. But… despite Loki’s words, they didn’t go any further than the kiss. They _did_ walk hand in hand to Anthony’s bedroom, and they undressed each other with the kind of slow care that they had never bothered with in the past. And when they slid between the sheets, it wasn’t to have sex– because Anthony was right. They didn’t _need_ that to feel the intimacy that they both craved, because they already had everything they needed right there in each other’s arms. Loki fell asleep with his head on Anthony’s shoulder, his arms around Anthony’s waist, and Anthony’s lips pressed to his hair– and he felt far more peaceful than he ever had in his own bed.

Of course, come morning, when they were rested and fresh, they greeted each other with slow kisses and explorative touches that felt both familiar and brand new, their bodies aligning with the kind of tenderness that they both had been craving for so very long.

And every second, every _moment_ felt like it was infinitely better than the last. Against all the odds, Loki had found something more precious than anything else in the world. It truly was everything he could have hoped for, because more than never _wanting_ to let go, he now knew that he would never _have_ to.

Because, for the first time of many to come, Loki found himself sure that Anthony wouldn’t let go of him, either.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the art for this fic on tumblr [here.](https://jaxonkreide.tumblr.com/post/189684948559/art-for-a-collab-with-quietlyapocalyptic)


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